Alone
by RickySpanishhh
Summary: Obi-Wan suffers a loss of a terrible kind, and struggles to pick up the pieces.
1. Unum

**in**•**ju**•**ry**

[_in-juh-ree_]

1. Harm or damage that is done or sustained.

He tries to speak, but no words come. Just a nonsyllabic croaking. His throat is dry, but there's something else. Some deeper, more sinister reason he can't say words.

One of his hands is in a heavy cast; his fingers wrapped in gauze from tips to knuckles, protecting them from further damage.

His feet are bound in bandages, treated five times a day with bacta. He sleeps most of the time. It's easier.

* * *

**shock**

[_shok_]

3. A sudden or violent disturbance of the mind, emotions, or sensibilities.

They say his tongue was cut out. A surgical operation is performed to make it smoother, to cut the bit of excess that was sloppily left behind.

He can hardly suck in a breath, the verbal blow delivered gravely by a calm Healer the cause of all air being knocked from his lungs.

His Padawan is a young man, just a boy, and yet those beings took advantage of one weakness. Reducing his mind to tatters and carving him up like a butcher with a slab of meat.

He meditates to ease his ill feelings. It does little to soothe the ache in his chest.

* * *

**re**•**un**•**ion**

[_ree-yoon-yuhn_]

2. The state of being united again

"Padawan," the older man says quietly, standing over him in his sick bed.

He tries to reply with the customary "Master", but nothing comes out except a small noise, almost like a hiccup, but softer. He looks up at his master, eyes filled with confusion, and his master, deep within his blue eyes, wants to weep.

Then his master tells him all. The grim details of his padawan going missing, the rescue, and the diagnosis.

Obi-Wan Kenobi turns his gaze to the white blanket covering him and swallows his tears. Now is time to be a Jedi, not a child.

* * *

**pain**

[_peyn_]

1. Physical suffering or distress.

3. Mental or emotional suffering or torment.

Qui-Gon holds Obi-Wan tightly, the latter's arm wrapped around Qui-Gon's waist in a death grip. His legs shake badly, knees threatening to buckle at any moment.

Master Che gives up and lets Obi-Wan lie in bed once more, the padawan's face covered in a sheen of sweat. Obi-Wan grasps for his master's hand, knowing he will understand.

Qui-Gon learned a language years ago, using solely touch with no other senses needed, which he in turn taught Obi-Wan. He takes the apprentice's hand, feeling the callused fingers flutter and glide across his palm.

His feet hurt badly, felt even through their training bond. A result of the blood poisoning suffered during his captivity. He is mostly cured, but some of it still lingers.

Closing his eyes, Qui-Gon aches for his padawan.


	2. Duo

**heal**

[_heel_]

5. To become whole or sound; mend; get well.

Obi-Wan recovers his ability to walk in time, infection leaving his feet enough to put pressure on them, and eventually place his entire weight in the faith the appendages will hold.

He learns to walk all over again, feeling shame burn through his face every time he practices with the help of another. The last time he expected to need help with walking was as a toddler taking his first few steps.

But he heals physically, nonetheless.

* * *

**emp**•**ty**

[_emp-tee_]

1. Destitute of some quality or qualities; devoid.

His mouth is always empty. Never full again with one of the strongest muscles of the human body. A vital part of his mouth is just gone. Obi-Wan doesn't think he can bear it sometimes.

He cannot taste. Qui-Gon cooks the most wonderful meals with spices both sweet and savory, creating an… almost magical blend of flavors for his tongue. Everything is tasteless mush now. He doesn't bother eating much of anything. There isn't a point to it.

* * *

**speak**

[_speek_]

2. To communicate vocally.

Even at such a young age, Obi-Wan is an effective diplomat. A true negotiator at heart, despite his preference for peace and quiet, he is one to usually solve unrest when it can be discussed semi-maturely. It's quite useful, considering Qui-Gon's almost complete lack of manners.

Now he is nothing but a sullen young man who doesn't make a sound at Master Jinn's side. Reduced to no one, a husk who can speak only a nonsyllabic sound. Obi-Wan wonders why his master even keeps his useless carcass around.

* * *

**a**•**lone**

[_uh-lohn_]

1. Separate, apart, or isolated from others.

He's drifting through his life. Like krill in the ocean, having no purpose but to float in the surroundings and wait for some whale to come pick him off.

Obi-Wan still attends classes in the Temple, since he does tend to enjoy school. His master didn't have to notify the instructors of his inability to communicate. They already overheard the news from the gossiping padawans in his age group.

He stops enjoying school. He can't speak with his instructors and keeps his head down. Garen tries to poke him and urge him into conversation, but he shoves the offending hand away and turns his back to his former friend.

The anger building up in his chest is taken out on practice droids, Qui-Gon, Master Windu, and Master Yoda looking on from the balcony above. His feet hurt him when he exerts too much force in his footwork, and he collapses when his knees buckle beneath him. He makes no move to get up.

There is no point. He is fighting on his own.

* * *

**young**

[_yuhng_]

2. Having the appearance, freshness, vigor, or other qualities of youth.

**beau**•**ti**•**ful**

[_byoo-tuh-fuhl_]

1. Possessing qualities that give great pleasure or satisfaction to see, hear, think of, etc.

Carnal pleasure isn't something they partake in often, but it happens often enough to solidify the fact of there really being love between them.

Skin pressed against skin, covered in a sheen of sweat from the heat coiled within their bodies, the younger scrapes his blunt nails down the elder's back, elder's mouth on younger's throat. Younger gasps for air, no amount of oxygen enough to fill his lungs in the midst of such felicity.

Eventually their rutting against one another brings passionate release, faces flushed yet blissful after younger's abrupt cry. They lie together for a while afterward, softly dozing in peace.

Obi-Wan wonders if he'll be wanted once he outgrows this barefaced youth. Now he is eternally cut off from speech. His master very well may not desire him when he ages. The thoughts haunt him at night, when Qui-Gon sleeps in his room across the hall.

* * *

**to**•**geth**•**er**

[_tuh-geth-er_]

2. Into or in union, proximity, contact, or collision, as two or more things.

Pained to be silenced, Obi-Wan dutifully walks to his master's left, respectfully two paces behind. His feet feel better after he took time that morning to extensively massage and flex them; his boots now cushioned slightly to ease any pain.

He longs to grasp Qui-Gon's hand, his only source of communication, but it isn't appropriate. So he suffers in silence, thankful only that his master has not forsaken him as an apprentice. Obi-Wan does not doubt he'd have given up if Qui-Gon did such a thing. The sunset shining through the windows casts long shadows of them, master and apprentice, always together, always a team.


	3. Tribus

**no**

[_noh_]

1. A negative used to express dissent, denial, or refusal, as in response to a question or request

Qui-Gon seeks counsel with Master Yoda, irritated with his padawan for being so stubborn.

_Acceptance young Obi-Wan needs to have in order to move on._

Acceptance. He nearly snorts, not believing that could simply cure the young man of his desire to not cooperate with him. It came out of nowhere, Obi-Wan's sudden disobedience, rattling Qui-Gon enough for it to have taken this long to get his bearings and try to solve the situation. Obi-Wan has nearly always been a good apprentice, listening to his master's words and obeying them like he should.

It's as though the man did a 180 in personality. Qui-Gon asks him to pick up his clothes off the floor and Obi-Wan continues to sit in the same spot, unmoving. Then he tells Obi-Wan to dust their apartment, yet the young man ignores him.

The one time Qui-Gon tried to physically move his apprentice off the couch, Obi-Wan screamed blue murder and roughly shoved his master away.

Obi-Wan later slunk up to him, looking at the floor in shame, and grasped his master's hand. He signed "no", and Qui-Gon sighed deeply.

As of yet, he hasn't forgiven Obi-Wan for his tantrums.

* * *

**mir**•**ror**

[_mir-er_]

3. Any reflecting surface, as the surface of calm water under certain lighting conditions.

Obi-Wan stares down at his face in the water, the image rippling slightly from the crashing waterfall many meters away. He's at the edge of the lake, where the water is shallow enough to see the tiny silver fish dart about at the bottom. He wishes life were as simple for him as it is for the fish. They only have to find food and a place to sleep. They don't have to be handicapped.

The last mission had brought well-meaning, yet cruel words from their hosts' mouths. They'd offered Qui-Gon a special permit since Obi-Wan is now considered "handicapped".

And what is the point in living if beings he's never met judge his worth on his inability to speak? If he cannot taste anything and if he cannot walk for long without his feet hurting?

No point at all. Yet suicide is not the Jedi way. To take one's life before the Force deems it time for you to leave the galaxy is considered to be one of the vilest acts a Jedi can commit. One must follow the will of the Force and not go against it.

He has no way out of this. And so he continues to become lost in the movement of the fish in the water, wistful for a simpler life when he had purpose. When he had a promising future as a diplomatic Jedi.

* * *

**be**

[_bee_]

1. To exist or live

He is not of emotion. He has no personality. He merely is. He exists, and nothing more.

* * *

**run**

[_ruhn_]

3. To depart quickly; take to flight; flee or escape.

Obi-Wan runs. He has to escape. He races away from the beige ziggurat. Far away from the Temple, from the other Jedi who pity him. He runs across Coruscant, somehow ending up at a small diner surrounded by tall buildings in Coco Town.

It's as good a place as any to melt into the shadows and be what Garen calls "a sad sack" for a while. Stepping inside, he's immediately swept up in the greasy aroma of fried food.

When the server droid asks him what he wants, Obi-Wan swallows and realizes he shouldn't have come here.

The droid eventually rolls off after telling him in no uncertain terms to scram, and he stands looking at the floor, face red with shame. That is, until a very large besalisk with a mustache greets him.

Somehow, by some miracle of the Force, the besalisk—Dexter Jettster—understands he's trying to escape from something. He makes Obi-Wan a meal and gladly takes the Jedi's credits.

This is how they become friends.

* * *

**care**

[_kair_]

7. To be concerned or solicitous; have thought or regard.

It's not as though he can taste Dexter's food, though he tries to keep up the charade. The besalisk finds him out eventually, however. Dex always figured Obi-Wan was just a quiet kid, but no, he doesn't have a tongue. No wonder he won't say a vaping thing.

He doesn't know what happened, and it isn't his business to know anyway, but he pats Obi-Wan on the back as the kid leaves again, earning a small smile in return. Yeah, he might even care about the kid. Just a little.

* * *

**peace**

[_pees_]

6. Freedom of the mind from annoyance, distraction, anxiety, an obsession, etc.; tranquility; serenity.

Obi-Wan meditates soundly for the first time in months, and opens his eyes to find his master gazing curiously at him. He offers a reassuring smile and stretches out of his position on the floor, standing to make tea.

His master hands him the steaming mug, to his surprise, but he is grateful. Especially after his stage of angry defiance and his sullen moods.

He feels ready to become a new man.

* * *

**texture**

[_teks-cher_]

2. The characteristic physical structure given to a material, an object, etc., by the size, shape, arrangement, and proportions of its parts.

Obi-Wan brings him to the diner in Coco Town, where a four-armed being greets his apprentice rather warmly, given they'd met during the time Obi-Wan refers to as his "crisis period". He almost chuckles again at the term the younger man came up with, so flippant and exactly like his apprentice.

Dexter Jettster is the being's name, and he serves them both quite a large amount of food—not that Qui-Gon is complaining, since he and his padawan polish it all off, down to the last crumb. It shocks him to see Obi-Wan put away a portion of his body weight away in their food, since he hasn't seen the man eat like that since… before. Obi-Wan had once told him, at the start of all this, that he didn't see a point to eating food when he couldn't taste anything. But here he is sucking food into his stomach like a vacuum. Like a man just leaving behind his teenage years.

And said padawan glances up shyly at his master, evidently seeking approval for his choice of hangout the past few weeks. Grasping his hand under the table, Master signs approval of Apprentice's food selection.

Obi-Wan grins in response.

* * *

**a**•**lone**

[_uh-lohn_]

6. Without aid or help.

Qui-Gon was loathe to let me go, wanting to protect me for just a while longer under his wing. But he also knew I was ready. He knew I was an adult now, able to leave the nest, so to speak.

So my braid was severed in the proper ceremony, handed to me by Master Yoda. I passed it to Qui-Gon later, once we were alone. I had no one better to possibly give the symbol of my growth into a knight than to the man who raised me through it all.

I was given time to adjust without Qui-Gon around to help me communicate at every step, the Council being gracious in understanding I needed that much. We still visit each other with tea mugs in our hands. I now speak five languages, since to live on my own I had to learn Basic sign language. I still prefer the language of touching hands Qui-Gon taught me years ago, but I can at least communicate more effectively.

My trials of knighthood were considered completed when I became at peace with my loss of vocal communication. I'm pleased with myself for that, though I wonder if there's something in the Code saying I shouldn't be. I may be taking a page from Qui-Gon's book in that respect—that is to say, not caring whether I break the Code quite so much as I used to. Oh, he's still so smug about breaking me of adhering so strictly to the rules. Yes, yes, Master, I'm "sticking it to the Man" like you always wished I'd do more often. Happy now?

My first solo mission since my trials is one to the planet from which the touching hands language originated. I have a feeling I will enjoy my temporary stay here, granted permission to use the first form of communication I was able to utilize after my loss.

I am no longer bitter about any of it. I would not have grown so much in the past year had I not suffered such troubles. It was the will of the Force for me to mature this way. I am thankful for the opportunity to expand my horizons and rise to new heights.

Although, I really do wish I knew what Dex's food tasted like. Just one taste.


End file.
